Bill’s reports

Bees toil to draw with lifeless Chelsea
Brentford 0, Chelsea 0; 06 04.2025

There were two varying opinions about this local derby, even when partisan loyalties were dismissed. Roughly half of the 17.000-plus crowd were convinced that they had been witness to a lacklustre game of kickball that wasn’t worth a toffee. Conversely, there was a similar volume of paying customers who went home bathed in a warm glow, believing both teams had contributed to what will be remembered as a minor work of art.

Me? I’m afraid I am on the side of the toffee brigade. Yes, each side created a fistful of chances, but not one of them registered on the scoreboard (largely due to some fine goalkeeping, more of which in a while).

Obviously present on the pitch, on this gloriously sunny afternoon, was enough football talent to fill an entire Premier League bus of the best, yet most of them remained unfulfilled. Sparkle-free where a few diamonds would have been handy, they appeared to be awaiting arrivals from their respective benches, like nervous bridegrooms waiting at the church.

The result was a dreary first half, apparently solely the responsibility of Chelsea head coach, Enzo Maresca. It seems Maresca did not include some of his star-spangled squad – Nicholas Jackson, Cole Palmer and Marc Cucurella for example – just in case he needed them for an upcoming Europa fixture. As it was, he needed them within 60 minutes but that was too late.

With no-such commitments across the Channel, Brentford fielded what recently has passed as the first team, although the gaps left by such class acts as Rico Henry and Aaron Hickey continue to be palpable.

A problem that was compounded by the lack of cutting edge play by Bees’ Bryan Mbeumo and Yoane Wissa. Neither can ever be accused of not delivering one hundred per cent of effort but, apart from one scintillating joined-up attack, hey, both looked just a little out of touch.

Kevin Schade, who should be sharing the gong for effort, must wait for another day – he was so far below par in his game that once or twice he was beaten to a hight-flighted ball that normally he would reach as if from a trampoline.

The further comment about goalkeeping promised earlier would have been shared by both men but Chelsea’s Robert Sanchez couldn’t cut the mustard as the game progressed. So here’s tipping my hat to Brentford’s Mark Flekken, who has emerged from a moody start with the team to establish himself as a splendid and reliable custodian of the posts.

One special award for class should go to Cucurella, who appeared determine to run across every piece of turf as the game progressed in the overall direct of not-very-much. Perhaps it is his shock of hair that a section of the home crowd decided to hoot and boo, although it may have been just an expression of the lack of excitement as everyone apart from the goalkeepers tried to score – hardly Cucurella’s fault, or his barber’s, come to that.

At the game’s end, with seven fixtures left of Premier League action, Brentford should be on track for a deserved mid-table place that reflects some fine football and promises some grand days in the days ahead.

Whatever my reservations, I told my mate Charlie, it is always a pleasure to visit the Gtech Community Stadium.

“I’ll go halfway with you,’ said Charlie.

Brentford (4-3-3): Flekken; Ajer (sub Kayode 84), Collins, van den Berg, Lewis-Potter; Damsgaard (Jensen 84), Nørgaard, Yarmoliuk (Janelt 66); Schade, Mbeumo, Wissa.

Chelsea (4-2-3-1): Sanchez; Gusto, Adarabioyo, Chalobah, James (Cucurella 76); Calcredo, Dewsbury-Hall (Palmer 59); Madueke (Neto 59), Fernandez, Sancho; Nkunku (N Jackson 46). 

No place like home!

Brentford 4, Brighton & Hove 2; 19.04.25

An extraordinary twist in the tale of Brentford’s Premier League match against Brighton at the Gtech Community Stadium: after having the best of the first half and going ahead with a Bryan Mbeumo goal, the Bees conceded the equaliser with the referee ready to blow his whistle for the break. Oh, calamity – surely not another collapse of what had seemed a solid beginning to their first home victory since last December?

Well, no. The same eleven Bees who emerged back on to the pitch seemed, well, different. Brimming with confidence to begin with, Mbeumo doubled his goal tally within three minutes. And then Yoane Wissa, the lion of the penalty area, scored with a shot beyond the reach of keeper Bart Verbruggen.

Sceptics in the crowd were still scratching their heads as the Bees took command. Brighton were hardly docile, but one sensed their hearts were no longer in the business in hand.

As my mate Charlie pondered on what magic potion had been concocted to wreak havoc in the Brighton ranks, I pondered on the ten minutes or so in which Thomas Frank had a brought about a sea change in the fortunes of the home side. Mbeumo’s gallop away with Keane Lewis-Potter’s pin-point delivery and a delicious finish as two defenders failed to apprehend him was one thing. The whole team’s attitude change was something special.

The home side’s initial problems seem to be rooted in taking their eye off the ball – metaphoric and not much use – and failing to cope with a Danny Welbeck run that put everyone excluding Nathan Collins napping before he headed an equaliser with not much left of the maker’s name on the referee’s timepiece.

The hardened loyal supporters were worried that this would set back the impetus their team had been building nicely. Don’t be daft? Those with long memories and countless disappointments know full well that fickle fate is just that, no matter the circumstances.

Instead, the same eleven Bees who had departed rather glumly at the end of the first half were players reborn. And before we knew it, Mbeumo had fired a slow shot into the penalty area and, via the faintest of bushes with Dunk, find the far corner of the net.

And this wasn’t all in the memorable opening salvo of the half: on 58 minutes, Yoane Wissa found space in the penalty area to clip his shot – another slight brush with Dunk who should be careful that it doesn’t’ become a habit – to register the third goal from Brentford’s deadly duo of Mbeumo and Wissa.

[Bryan Mbeamo scored his 17^th and 18^th goals of the season in this game; Wissa recorded his 16th; no wonder the partnership has choreographed its own little jog of celebration].

Later, we began to realise that although Thomas Frank had almost certainly not brought along a magic potion to the team room, his wise words may well have galvanised them. ‘I said to the players, “Just win”,’ he revealed, probably the smartest advice available.

The visitors’ loss of a player did nothing to help the Bees: Joao Pedro, already in referee Tim Robinson’s yellow-card book, was guilty of a daft foul on Collins. Indeed, Pedro set of on the long and lonely walk to the changing room before being recalled to wait and suffer the VAR stamp of approval.

In fact, Brighton managed to snatch one back, through Kaoru Mitoma, but nobody really thought they could overhaul the home side, especially when Bees captain Christian Nørgaard was seen noticeably plundering inside the visitors’ areas – Christian has both the ability and agility when in the time is right.

This time it was in the air that he utilised a Mathias Jensen free kick to head a goal inside the nearest post as Mr Robinson counted eight minutes, more or less, of extra time allocated for medical attention to a player. (The referee didn’t impress much of the home crowd, or the visitors or, and as far as I am aware the tea ladies.).

‘Player sent off, another stretchered to the sick room, plus a two-goal deficit for three points,’ I listed to Charlie as the Bees’ crowds happily headed for the exit.

‘Not much of a day for Brighton,’ said Charlie.

Brentford (4-2-3-1): Flekken; Kayode (sub Ajer 66m), Collins, van den Berg, Lewis-Potter (Henry 76); Nørgaard, Yarmoliuk (Jensen 76), Mbeumo;  Damsgaard (Janelt 87), Schade (Konak 87), Wissa.

Brighton & Hove Albion (4-2-3-1): Verbruggen; Wieffer (Adingra 89), van Hecke (Cashin 90), Dunk, Estupiñan; Hinshelwood, Baleba (Gomez 77); Minteh (March 65), O’Riley (Mitoma 65), Pedro; Welbeck (Ayari 77)